Snake Seducer
by Kitty Hamilton
Summary: Ocelot has always loved Big Boss from a distance, never daring to make his feelings known. Touched by his plight, Kaz takes Ocelot under his wing to help him win the man of his dreams. This goes as well as one might expect. (This fic was started before MGSV:TPP was released. In it, Venom is Big Boss. Consider it semi-AU.)
1. Love Master Miller

Ocelot leaned against the railing of the walkway, looking down on Motherbase. More specifically, he was watch Big Boss.

DD barked, running around and between his master's legs. Snake held a ball aloft and issued commands which DD was too young and too excited to obey. Even from this distance, Ocelot could see the looseness of Snake's posture and hear the amusement in his voice.

These moments were becoming rarer. If lust for vengeance had filled Miller with scorching fury, Snake had frozen over. He returned from each mission more bitter. Emptier. By the time this was over, the vibrant man Ocelot had met at Rassvet might have turn to stone.

Snake tossed the tennis ball. DD yipped in delight and followed its bouncing path across the platform. He barely managed to hold the ball in his tiny muzzle. This time, dropped it at Snake's feet and sat at attention, just like Ocelot had taught him. Snake knelt down to reward him with cuddles.

"This is unexpected."

Ocelot jumped. Miller was leaning on his cane and grinning like a shark. On the metal walkways Miller's uneven gait was normally audible miles away. Had he really been that distracted?

"What are you on about, Miller?" He tolerated his colleague out of respect for the Boss, but just barely.

Miller tilted his head back. The setting sun reflected harshly off his aviators. It made him hard to read. "I just think your crush on the Boss is cute."

Ocelot's world slowed. He called upon every technique he'd learned through years of practiced lying, adding just the right notes of contempt and nonchalance to his response."That's disgusting," he said, curling his lip.

"No need to be so intolerant," Miller said, "Just letting you know he's taken."

"What?" There was no way he'd missed that. "Bullshit. By whom?"

There was that smile again. "...Isn't it obvious?"

Oh.

Oh.

Miller. Who else? The men had worked closely in MSF for years, and they'd never fallen out over something like...secret clones. Even now they were bound together by the same tragedy, fueled by a lust for revenge against a common foe. He'd seen the way Snake talked to Miller, the way he talked about him. Ocelot was the third wheel. The uninvited, estranged colleague shoving himself where he could never belong.

"I see," he choked out. Barely.

Miller regarded him inscrutably. Then, he let out an almost diabolical cackle. "Your face...I can't...! You really believed that? I hope you don't think I'm as gullible as you, 'cause that was the most pathetic lying you've ever done."

He was that easy to read? Blood rush to Ocelot's head and he turned to hide his reddening cheeks.

"Have you told—hey, come back."

Ocelot stormed away. Fleeing a conflict was humiliating, but hearing his feelings for Big Boss mocked was intolerable. He would have thrown anyone else off the walkway or beaten them to a pulp. Unfortunately, he knew from experience that attempting to do either of those things to Miller would upset Snake.

"Ocelot!" He could hear Miller limping after him, the crutch clanging rhythmically off the metal.

At least he could always outrun—or outwalk—Miller.

"Ocelot, wait!"

He didn't.

"Have you told him how you feel?!"

The last sentence was almost shouted, echoing. Two soldiers on the platform below looked up curiously. A guard on the walkway immediately above paused.

He stopped. It took an eternity for Miller to catch up.

"What do you want?" Ocelot hissed.

"An answer."

"To what?"

"My question. Have you told the Boss how you feel?"

Ocelot glowered. "Of course not."

"Why?"

He didn't dignify that with an answer.

"Afraid of rejection?"

"I've got a lunch to eat and a prisoner to torture. You have a point, or are you just fucking around?"

Miller lifted his single arm, still holding the cane. Ocelot backed up, expecting a blow, but Miller wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

"You probably don't know this, but I'm…" His grin faltered for a moment. "I was quite a heartbreaker. Been with women from all over. I consider it a public service to share my expertise."

"...Are you hitting on me?"

"I'm offering help."

He should have shoved Miller away, put his blatherings out of his head. But, despite every brain cell telling him this was a bad idea...he was tempted.

"What kind of 'help'?" Ocelot said carefully.

"You want the Boss to notice you, right? By the time we're done he'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."

Ocelot's fantasies about Snake had always been modest. In them Snake praises his skill, acknowledges his abilities, and relies on his expertise far more than in reality. They are goals Ocelot could, theoretically, achieve. Imagining more, even in flights of fancy, seemed foolhardy.

But Miller radiates confidence. Despite himself, Ocelot imagined. Snake kissing him. Sleeping with him.

Saying he loved him.

An ache of longing sharper stabbed through him. He wanted this. He wanted this so badly.

Ocelot shoved the feeling down, smothering it with logic and realism.

"You're trying to screw me over," he said.

"No thanks," replied Miller, "I'm straight."

Ocelot snorted.

"The Boss wants us to play nice," Miller continued,"Besides, that stupid lovesick smile on your face made me feel...nostalgic."

He should punch Miller in his smarmy face. Pretend this whole conversation never happened. The ache won't let him.

"...Alright."

"Great!" Miller slid his arm off Ocelot's shoulder—removing his scarf. Ocelot snatched for it, but Miller pulled it just out of reach.

"Hey!" Ocelot's neck tingled in the cool air. He felt oddly exposed.

"Consider this lesson one: always show more skin." Miller shoved the scarf into his pocket, then adjusted his grip on the cane. "See you later, cowboy."

And he was off. Ocelot stared dumbly at Miller's retreating back

 _What the hell did I get myself into?_


	2. Training Techniques

Kaz settled himself in the only chair in Ocelot's room, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him Ocelot would have kept it if he'd had both legs. Despite how long Ocelot had resided here, the place felt foreign. On a tiny base in the middle of the ocean they hoarded what little space they could get. Not that Kaz had never been in Ocelot's room—he bugged it himself a while back (Ocelot always discovered them).

It wasn't decorated like a wild west saloon. The only sign of Ocelot's unhealthy obsession was a neat pile of VHS tapes and novels off in a corner. He stood in the center of the room, spinning a revolver.

"Did he notice?" Kaz asked.

Ocelot absentmindedly touched his neck with his free hand. He's been doing it all day. Couldn't blame the guy. Kaz was the same about his aviators. "He asked about the scarf. I said I lost it."

"No, no, no," Kaz said, shaking his head. "Which is sexier—choosing to wear less clothing or forgetfulness?"

"It makes a difference?"

"You're not the expert. Trust me. Take off something you always wear and you look naked without it."

"So I've been walking around naked." He tossed the revolver and caught it in his other hand, moving it into a spin in one fluid motion. His eyes never left Kaz's face. "I want it back."

"All in good time, cowboy. Before we really get started, you need to answer some questions."

Ocelot narrowed his eyes. He was suspicious, and he should be. Kaz was not helping just out of the goodness of his shriveled heart. Worming his way into the relationship between Ocelot and the Boss, getting more insight into the mind of a former Cipher agent. Comedic value.

"Are you a virgin?"

There was that comedic value. He sputtered incoherently before spitting out, "Of course not!"

"Hey!" He threw up his hand. "I'm not making any assumptions! Better to ask."

"Grrr…"

"And your past relationships?"

Ocelot hesitated. Interesting.

"I wouldn't call them relationships."

"Friends with benefits?"

"Wouldn't call them 'friends'."

It was easier to imagine Ocelot having sex than having friends. "No-strings-attached sex, then. Pay for it?"

Ocelot stopped spinning his gun, aiming it pointing up. Kaz smiled innocently. "Hey, just need a picture of what I'm working with here."

And he'd gotten one. It was almost endearing: the middle-aged, gun-slinging, spy-torturer had never had a real relationship. Explained why he hadn't pursued the Boss yet. It's easier to be rejected by someone you care little for. Ocelot was mystery, but it didn't take much to guess that he didn't have many people he would call friends. Alienating Big Boss would be a huge blow.

Not that he had to worry. If all of Kaz's concerns hadn't been enough to budge the Boss's trust in Ocelot, some awkward sexual advances wouldn't push him over the edge.

"All right," he say in his instructing voice, straightening up. "Show me your technique."

"..."

"Your seduction technique." Ocelot arched an eyebrow. "Hey, I need to see it to critique it."

Ocelot gave the gun a final twirl and holstered it. He closed his eyes, tilted his head down. Frowned. When he looked up his smirk was cold but playful. He approached with a slow cowboy swagger.

This was...familiar. The hair on the back of Kaz's neck stood up.

Ocelot lunged forward. Kaz instinctively raised his arm, but Ocelot grabbed his wrist and forced it up. He was pressed down against the chair with by Ocelot's weight, one leg resting on either side of his own. The other hand twined its fingers through Kaz's hair and tugged, forcing his head back see straight into cold, hungry eyes.

Ocelot's chest rumbled. It felt like a repressed laugh. Or a purr.

He leans down. Kaz flinched at his breath against his ear. "How do you rate my technique, Kazuhira Miller?"

Kaz took a moment to realize Ocelot was not going to bite through his jugular. Ocelot released his hair and arm, leaning back to put some space between them.

And Kaz had remembered why this felt familiar

"J-jesus Christ! You're like this during interrogations! Well, not the sitting in the lap part, but..."

Ocelot looked amused. "Not that you know of."

"You seriously come on to people like this?"

"Yeah."

"...That actually explains a lot." God knows Kaz wouldn't be able to avoid thinking about this during their next interrogation. "But you might wanna approach the Boss in a less 'I-am-about-to-electrocute-you' way."

He drew himself up. "Say I'm Big Boss. What do you do next?"

"You? As Big Boss?" He looked Kaz up and down, mentally cataloguing each example of his inferiority.

"Yeah. This is a kind of roleplaying game." It couldn't be too far off from training a spy like him must have experienced in the past, though most of Kaz's own rolepaying experience was from...other things.

"I get it," he said without much confidence.

"You're in the Boss's office, having a nice, normal conversation about a new recruit, when you 'accidentally' fall in his lap. He wraps one of his muscular, manly arms around you-the real one-so you don't fall off." Ocelot snorted as Kaz wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer.

"He's so close you could lean forward and kiss him, staring at you with one gorgeous blue eye. And the sexy eyepatch. What do you do?"

Ocelot rolled his eyes, but to Kaz's mild surprise, cooperated. He stared off to the side, eyes glazing as he conjured up the scene in his imagination. Kaz knew Ocelot succeeded when he began radiating heat like a furnace, skin turning bright pink from cheeks to exposed chest.

He swallowed hard. "I...uh..."

The poor idiot was rigid. Kaz squeezed his waist gently to snap him out of the lovestruck paralysis.

Ocelot flailed and tumbled to the floor.

Kaz struggle to my feet, supporting himself on the back of the chair. "You okay?"

Ocelot was physically fine, but from the expression on his face his ego had sustained serious damage.

"Wow, Ocelot. Just. Wow." Kaz laughed. Hard.

Ocelot lay there, stewing in his shame, covering his face with his hands. "Ass."

"We'll go slower. Save the lap sitting for a more advanced stage."

Ocelot groaned.

"Don't worry, Romeo. Get back on the horse."

"I don't want to hear about your horse dick, Miller."

"Come on. Up!"

He finally righted himself, ignoring Kaz's offered hand. Kaz probably couldn't have supported him anyway. Sometimes he forgets.

"This is hopeless," Ocelot said, touching the holster on his hip as if it provided some measure of comfort.

"You give up so easily?," Kaz said, settling back into the chair. "Come on, I'll show you how to flirt."

"Hmph."

As much as Kaz hated Ocelot, he'd become invested in his stupid crush. Ocelot's was going to get laid whether he liked it or not. "If you flirt right, you can pass it off as a joke. No risk. No throwing yourself into laps."

Ocelot huffed and shifted from foot to foot, glowering at his boots as if they were responsible for his appalling social skills instead of a symptom of them. He sighed wearily. "Fine. Teach me, oh wise sensei."

"Ready?"

Ocelot didn't respond. He was spinning his revolver with enough force that Kaz feared injury if his finger slipped.

They enter the mess hall together. It was as noisy and crowded as it ever got in here, full of soldiers unwinding over dinner. Some shot them surprised looks as they passed. Ocelot and Kaz avoided each other unless business required otherwise. They probably assumed something was wrong.

It took a moment to spot Big Boss, who had several soldiers clustered around him. Only his back and the top of his ponytail were visible as he leaned down behind a table. The soldiers got one look at Ocelot and fled.

Oh boy.

Snake straightened up, and when he noticed us his pleased expression morphed into one of panic. Ocelot raised an eyebrow, craning his neck to see what the Boss had been looking at.

"DD?!" he howled. The revolver hung limply from his fingers.

"What have I said to the men about feeding DD from the tables?" He pointed at the oblivious puppy, who was wagging his tail and gnawing on a hotdog. "Over and over again?"

Snake rubbed the back of his neck with his prosthetic hand. Kaz slid into the seat across from him. Snake looked at him out of the corner of his eye for help, but Kaz pretended not to notice. Snake had this coming.

Ocelot holstered his revolver. "You know what you'll get if this doesn't stop?" He swooped down, scooped DD up, and held him in his outstretched arms like damning evidence. DD swallowed remaining hotdog. "A fat puppy! With no manners!"

"It's just baby fat," Snake mumbled without much conviction.

"He won't be a puppy forever. I've barely gotten the men to stop letting him beg for food, and if they see you doing it, they'll think it's okay."

Snake wouldn't lift his gaze from the tray.

This was tragic. Time to step in. "Ocelot?"

Ocelot's wrathful attention shifted to Kaz. He would have been more intimidated if Ocelot hadn't been holding a puppy.

"Everyone still gives DD food off their plates. They just learned to stop doing it while you're around."

"Really."

There was a long silence.

When he spoke again, it was to Snake. "Listen, remember when DD had separation anxiety, and would howl whenever we put him in the kennel at night? We stuck to it and he got over it. If the men would just be consistent…What is it?"

Snake was ready to run.

"Boss." Ocelot pronounced the title like a parent would say the name of a naughty child.

"Well...He was crying and we and the men thought he sounded really sad so…"

"Boss."

"He, ah, usually sleeps in my room at night. Or another soldiers'. We...alternate."

The entirety of Diamond Dogs had been undermining Ocelot's authority and spoiling DD with abandon for months now. Kaz was impressed they'd managed to keep it secret this long.

Ocelot looked to the heavens, as if he was praying for some divine being to grant him the strength not to murder everyone in the room. The men had long since retreated from their corner of the mess hall.

"Sorry, Ocelot," Snake said, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, "but DD is cuter than you are scary."

As exciting as this conversation had been, it was time to get down to business. Kaz grabbed his cane and poked Ocelot's ankle.

He jumped, and looks like he was about to yell at Kaz before comprehension dawned. He placed DD on a chair and gave him a final scratch behind the ears.

Ocelot shifted into a relaxed posture, gazing at the Boss from half lidded eyes. He rested an arm on the table and leaned forward. It was a good pose, showing off his ass and emphasizing his shoulders. Kaz had taught him well. "Maybe I need to try other methods of persuasion."

Big Boss blinked.

"I don't look cute enough to get my way?"

The Boss chuckled. "Nobody's cuter than DD."

Ouch. To Ocelot's credit, he didn't miss a beat. "But I do have...other talents." He wet his lips, eyes roam over Snake's body suggestively.

The Boss stared at Ocelot like he was speaking a different language.

Kaz couldn't help himself. "Take a cue from DD. Get under the table and beg. He might give you some meat."

The kick to Kaz's remaining leg was agonizing, but Ocelot's outraged expression was so, so worth it.

The Boss looked from Kaz to Ocelot. Kaz had miscalculated. This was going way over the Boss's head head. Snake took one of the hotdogs on his tray and held it out to Ocelot. Ocelot cursed, threw his hands up in the air, and stormed out of the mess hall. The men parted like the Red Sea.

"Any idea what that was about?" Big Boss asked.

"No idea Boss. No idea."


End file.
